How You Get The Girl
by ReneyyySprouse
Summary: And you know that I don't want you to go. Oneshot.
_**How You Get The Girl.
**_ _Stendy - for worse, or for better~_

 _-x-_

"Honey, he's _still_ standing out there."

With a roll of her eyes, a gorgeous, seventeen year old Wendy Testaburger flopped over onto her opposite side where she lay across her bed. She popped out one earphone from her iPod as she looked through the open door of her bedroom and across the hall to her mother.

Mrs. Testaburger was standing in her husband's office, while Mr. Testaburger was sat at his computer printing off tickets to a movie for he and Wendy's mother that night. The older woman continued to worriedly gaze out of the second floor window and down at the family's front lawn. And Wendy knew exactly what she was staring at.

He was the school quarterback. He was the dark haired, red poofball hat wearing, level-headed peacemaker of their circle of friends. And he was Wendy's long-time boyfriend. It was Stan.

Some dull thunder began to ominously rumble in the distance, causing Wendy to sigh at her mother's words. As Mrs. Testaburger glanced back to her daughter, the teenage girl widened her beautiful, brown eyes with regret.

"And is the rain starting to get heavier?"

Mrs. Testaburger responded with one, solemn nod of her head, "Yes, sweetheart."

For a short second, Wendy remained quiet as she simply stared down at the sheets of her bed. But in the next moment, as her head flicked back up, the incredibly sarcastic sadness fell from her expression. A deep frown fell into her forehead as the familiar feelings of scorned wrath settled back into her face.

"Good."

The single word was carelessly spat into the air before Wendy stubbornly turned back around, hearing her mother sigh from behind her amongst the claps of thunder that were growing louder.

Stan Marsh was a million and one amazing things. He was sweet and kind and caring, and Wendy knew just how much he loved her. But he was far from perfect. He could be forgetful and oblivious and inconsiderate - just as he had been on Sunday afternoon when he had stood Wendy up and left her all on her own to instead attend a football game with Kyle.

Wendy had made a Sunday lunch reservation for Bennigan's weeks in advance, and she had reminded Stan about it a countless number of times. But no matter how much thought and effort she had put into planning their romantic afternoon, Wendy had still been left looking like a complete fool as she sat waiting patiently in the booth for two for well over an hour.

It hadn't been until later - _much_ later - when the dark haired girl discovered that her boyfriend hadn't just ditched her for a Broncos game, but on top of this, he had left his cell phone at home. And with Stan being impossible to contact despite how many times she called and texted him, it only made Wendy about a thousand times more angry.

Now, yes, okay - Wendy realised that what Stan did was probably an accident and that it wasn't the complete end of the world. But, hell, her feelings had been seriously hurt. And she wasn't prepared to sit back and let him get away with it with no repercussions whatsoever.

After two full days of totally avoiding him at school, rejecting his phone calls, and ignoring his fifty text messages a day, it was now early on Tuesday evening. A dark and stormy Tuesday evening, to be exact. But it was on this evening that Stan had apparently decided to finally take a stand against his girlfriend'vengeful anger and was flat out refusing to leave her front yard.

But Wendy still wasn't giving in. Not that easily, no way.

"Oh, come on Wendy," her mother pleaded, moving towards Wendy's bedroom door as a bolt of lightning flashed outside the window, "Don't make him suffer anymore."

Wendy groaned through gritted teeth. Mrs. Testaburger had such a soft spot for Stan, she always had, "A little bit of rain isn't gonna' kill him, Mom."

Before the older woman could open her mouth to speak again, Mr. Testaburger suddenly cleared his throat from where he was still situated in his office, "Nope. But that lightning just might if it hits that huge tree he's standing under."

As she felt her jaw drop and a wave of confusion cross her face, Wendy flipped back around on her bed to face her dad's office, "What?"

The word left her with disbelief and only the very slightest concern as the teenager finally climbed off her bed and walked across the hall. Sure enough, as she stared out the window of her father's office, a second flash of lightning struck dangerously close to her house and the tree in her yard that Stan was sheltering under.

A mere instance of panic went coursing through Wendy's veins, before she could only shake her head with an annoyed groan, "Goddamn it..." she complained, turning on her heels as she tried to ignore the chuckles of her parents echoing behind her.

Stopping at the linen cupboard halfway down the hallway, Wendy ripped the door open and snatched out a clean towel before angrily marching down the stairs of her house. She may have been mad at Stan, but she wasn't sure if she was quite mad enough to willingly watch him get struck by lightning and burn to a crisp on her front lawn.

Tearing open the front door, Wendy glowered across the yard at her boyfriend and raised her voice, "Are you insane?!"

Staying silent for a fearful moment, Stan was sort of surprised to see Wendy finally confronting him. Eventually, he only shrugged his shoulders with a blank expression, "I guess so."

Wendy felt her fist scrunch into a frustrated ball as she was just able to hear Stan's sarcastic reply over the pouring rain. A part of her wanted nothing more than to turn back into the house and slam the door behind her, but deep down within herself, Wendy was able to somehow swallow her pride. Grumbling in stubborn agitation, the teenage girl left the entrance to her house wide open as she disappeared back into the living room.

Stan hesitated. As much as he wanted the chance to talk to Wendy - not to mention how much he wanted to get the hell out of this storm - he wasn't certain if that was all going to be worth how much she was probably going to yell and scream at him. Soon enough, though, as a chill ran down his spine from the cold, Stan shoved his hands into his pockets and kept his head down as he ran through the rain and approached Wendy's front door.

The very second that he stepped onto the dry carpet, the dark haired boy flinched and grunted in surprise as a baby pink coloured towel came hurling at him from across the room and smacked him in the head.

"Take that, dry off, and then call your mom to come get you, because you are _not_ staying here," Wendy immediately demanded with a heated tone.

Stan sighed subtly to himself as he shut the front door quietly back into place. This was already going to be a lot harder than he thought.

"Can I at least dry off in the bathroom?"

Wendy stood her ground with her arms folded firmly across her chest as she glared at him. Exhaling a deep breath after a moment of consideration, she took a single step to the side and then gestured for him to go upstairs. The teenage girl felt a shiver run through her as Stan walked by and purposely brushed against her. He smiled a small, sweet smile at her, but her expression still didn't budge.

Following right behind him, Wendy felt her blood begin to boil more and more with each step that she climbed. As he lead himself down the incredibly familiar path of his girlfriend's hallway and ducked in behind the bathroom door, Wendy's parents suddenly appeared from their bedroom.

Her mother adjusted her handbag over her shoulder, while her dad folded up their tickets to the movie and shoved them securely into his back pocket. Looking back over her shoulder for an instant, Mrs. Testaburger feigned a relieved smile to see Stan safely standing in the bathroom.

The older woman cautiously turned back to her daughter, "You okay, honey?"

Wendy sighed again, "Yeah, we're fine," she answered simply, "Enjoy the movie."

Mrs. Testaburger smiled at Wendy and gave her a supportive squeeze of her shoulder, while her father simply kissed her hairline before the two left for the evening. The very moment that she heard the front door close downstairs, Wendy huffed out in frustration.

All she wanted to do was crawl back into bed and shut herself off from the world for the rest of the night, but as she impulsively bit down on her bottom lip, a wave of curiosity soon crossed her. She slowly shuffled up the hall, walking past her bedroom and poking her head into the upstairs bathroom.

Her brown eyes immediately caught the blue of Stan's in the reflection of the mirror.

A short silence fell between them before Stan bravely cleared his throat, "You know the Broncos got completely demolished."

Within a mere instant, Wendy felt the furious anger swirl in her stomach all over again, "Why the hell do you think that's something I really wanna' hear right now?"

"I thought it might make you feel a little better to know that I at least had a shit day."

Wendy scoffed as she crossed her arms and leant up against the wooden doorway. Stan was still for a second, waiting to see if she would say anything else to him. When she didn't, he shrugged to himself and instead refocused his attention on the cold dampness of his clothes and skin.

He picked the towel up from the basin and ran it down his wet face. Taking his blue and red beanie off, he wringed it out into the sink as best he could and then left it sitting there to dry. He ran his hand back through his dark, black locks. His hair had grown longer over the years and now sat messily on top of his head as he scraped his fingers through it and allowed it to sort of drape to one side.

As he did so, Wendy kept her eyes absolutely glued to him. Every slow, hypnotic movement that he made was reluctantly reminding her of all the times her own hands would get lost in his soft locks. She unwillingly felt all the moisture vanish from her throat as her heart started to pound against her rib cage.

Watching her out of the corner of his eye and examining her expression, a small, knowing smirk turned up in the corner of Stan's mouth.

"I'm sorry."

The unexpected nature of his words suddenly snapped Wendy out of her bemused trance. She scoffed slightly again as her brow creased into a frown, "You've said that a million times already."

Spinning away from the bathroom mirror, Stan took one step towards Wendy, "And I'll say it as many more times as it takes."

As his tall, alluring figure approached her closer and closer, Wendy felt her chest clench up. The only thing keeping her from crumbling into a weak heap at his apology was how cynical and insincere his tone sounded, "Well too bad you're not going to be here long enough to reach that point."

Stan raised a daring eyebrow with another smirk.

"You are _so_ smoking hot when you're angry."

Before she even had the chance to comprehend or react to his flirty retort, Stan jumped back from Wendy, avoiding the inevitable slap or shove or punch she would have been sure to throw his way. Trying to ignore the cheek in his handsome face and the burning, red, hot feeling in her blush, Wendy felt her own face crinkle with extreme displeasure. Was this all just a big joke to Stan? Why the hell wasn't he taking her hurt feelings seriously?

Just as she sharpened her coiled tongue and opened her mouth to completely snap at him, Wendy's motor suddenly came to a skidding stop. Keeping his eyes on himself in the mirror, Stan peeled back his soaked, brown coloured jacket and shrugged out of it, revealing the thin, white t-shirt underneath that was stuck wet to his skin from the rain.

The seventeen year old boy wasn't a totally buffed, muscular, beef-head, or anything like that. But he did play football, and had to be sort of big and toned to do so. He was pretty much a perfectly normal, teenage shaped guy with just the right amount of muscle.

The raw sight of him never failed to drive Wendy completely crazy with desire. And Stan was all too aware of this.

Glancing slightly at the now speechless appearance on her face, Stan tried to hold down his chuckles. He knew she was still incredibly annoyed with him and probably wanted nothing more than to yell at him for being such a smart ass, but at the same time, the two of them had gone almost three days now without even a single kiss. That had to be gnawing with lust at Wendy's insides just as much as it was Stan's.

As much fun as he was having testing his limits of flirtation with her and tediously pushing her buttons, deep down, Stan honestly didn't want to make his girlfriend any more pissed off at him than she already was. "You know I didn't do anything on purpose, right?" he asked gently, "I would never choose some dumb football game over a date with you."

A small, cackling laugh exploded from the back of Wendy's throat as she grimaced in disbelief, "Then why did you?"

Stan's answer appeared to him immediately. Part of his reasoning for his defense was simply because he knew it was exactly what Wendy would want to hear, but way more importantly than that, it also just happened to be the absolute truth.

"Because I'm an idiot."

Within a second, the deeply set frown faded from Wendy's face. Her features remained soft and curiously intrigued as Stan swiveled back around and began to walk towards her again.

"Because I made a dumb mistake. Because Kyle offered me the tickets at the last minute, and I haven't been to a game all season, and I just didn't think," he paused, standing less than a foot away from his girlfriend by now. And then, he smiled apologetically, "I fucked up. But no matter how much I fuck up, or how pissed you get at me, I still only ever want _you_ more than anything else. I'll wait however long it takes for you to forgive me."

Wendy was silent. Her heart was racing so fast and pumping blood throughout her body so vigorously that she was almost certain that Stan would have been able to hear it beating, too. Her voicebox was completely lost to her, but even if she had been able to speak, her brain didn't have the first clue of what there possibly was for her to say. She craned her neck up at the tall figure of her boyfriend as he rested a hand against the doorway and leant down towards her.

Wendy's breath hitched in her throat, and Stan brought his voice to an enticingly low murmur.

"Do you still want me to leave?"

They could feel the warmth of each other's breath on their lips. Stan could see all too clearly the faint, pink blush in Wendy's cheeks and the tiny hairs pricked up with goosebumps on her arms and neck. And the very second that she willed herself to stare up at him and lock her eyes with his, the teenage boy finally closed the gap between them and brought his lips to hers.

Stan braced himself for the disappointing feeling of Wendy pulling away from him, but instead, he felt a shiver overtake his body at the incredible sensation of her kissing him back. The young couple had their eyes shut tight as they lovingly lapped at each other over and over again. Each peck grew slightly more passionate than the last as they tied their tongues together for only the briefest moment before reluctantly pulling apart.

Staring down at her with glistening eyes and renewed cheek, Stan grinned, "I didn't think so."

Finally allowing a genuine smile to cross her, Wendy giggled with a scoff as she placed a hand against Stan's chest and playfully shoved him away from her, "Jerk."

Stan echoed her laughter with a shake of his head. He blew out a subtle sigh of relief. While he may have known that what happened between them was never going to be truly damaging to their relationship, Stan still felt incredible reprieve for Wendy's forgiveness. There was nothing he hated more in the entire world than when he unintentionally upset her.

Taking her by either shoulder, he kept his adoring eyes on her, "I am sorry."

Wendy felt her heart flutter, "I know. It's okay."

"I'm going to make it up to you," he promised her, "This whole weekend, just you and me, no-one else, doing whatever you want to do. Okay?"

The teenage girl simply beamed at him. Stan could be such a tease and so immature sometimes, but when it came right down to it, he always knew when he was in the wrong and when to accept blame for his silly, boyish mistakes.

Without saying anything more, Wendy only dived into his grasp and wrapped her arms around his irresistibly perfect torso to squeeze him in tight a hug. But the very second that she did, the dark haired girl suddenly sprung back with a loud gasp as she felt a frosty chill consume her.

"Oh my God, Stan, you are freezing!"

Stan laughed, brushing off her concern as he puffed out his chest and defiantly took his hands to his hips, "Oh, please, I could've stood out there for at least another hour or two."

Suspiciously narrowing her eyes at him, Wendy tilted her head to one side. She could clearly see the pale colour of his skin and the few, cold raindrops that were still running down his arms. As she shot him a challenging expression, Stan only remained firm for a minute longer before he caved and sensed his body curl up and recoil from its own temperature.

"Okay, but yeah, I'm pretty goddamn cold."

Giggling sweetly at him, Wendy expelled a timid 'aw' as she reached forward and took Stan by the hand. She supposed that maybe she was starting to feel just a _little_ guilty about making him stand outside in the rain for so long, but there was actually one other thing driving her emotions much more fiercely than this. And that was when he said to her that he would have stayed frozen out on her lawn for hours longer - Wendy knew that Stan meant it.

Leaning up on her toes, Wendy placed a gentle hand on the back of Stan's neck and pecked at his lips just once more before taking a couple of small steps around him. Keeping a hold of his hand, the teenage girl soon approached the glass door of the shower. And as she reached in and turned on the faucet, Stan felt his whole body tremour with a thump of anticipation.

Looking over her shoulder at him, Wendy smirked invitingly at him, "Nothing that a nice, hot shower can't fix."

And just like that, the teenage boy grinned and his bright, blue eyes widened to the size of saucepans, "Killer."

Tugging her in towards him, the adoring young couple fell into each other's embrace, swapping some more sensual laughter and deliciously loving kisses before Stan took his hands to the hem of Wendy's shirt and began to pull it up.

Wendy had already completely forgotten about the anger that had moments ago been fueling her so furiously. Stan was right - he was a bit of an idiot sometimes, but the only thing Wendy needed to remember every time he made a silly mistake was how much he loved her. Because she only loved him a million times more.

If there was one thing that their tiny argument had taught her, it was that there wasn't really any point at all in her purposely avoiding her boyfriend whenever she was mad at him. No matter how much she had tried to ignore him since Sunday, Stan had still accomplished precisely what Wendy knew he would all along.

Regardless of what he had done or how angry she was, Stan knew how this all worked. He always knew exactly what to do and say to win Wendy back. He always knew how to get his girl.

 _-x-_


End file.
